


Number 5

by Cliophilyra



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Based on Spider-Man & Deadpool comics, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Spideypool - Freeform, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:31:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6645181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This basically carries on directly from the 4th issue of Spider-Man & Deadpool - ignoring the last two pages for now! However I am pretending Shiklah is not in the picture for the purposes of making life easier for me as a writer :-) Because I just wanted to write a quick one shot thingy for my first attempt.</p><p> </p><p>This is my very first Spideypool fic so I'm sorry if it sucks. It's probably a bit OOC because I'm getting the hang of new voices! I hope you enjoy it - either way let me know. I love comments! :-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Number 5

“I hate to ruin the moment but…”

“No. You’re not on my list.” Wade answers before Peter has even finished his question.

Peter laughs at the slightly awkward tone. “Thanks for that lie.” he says and he thinks Wade smiles.

They stand in the alley behind Wade’s club, catching their breath, back in their respective suits again amidst the trash bags. Wade leans against the grubby graffiti-covered wall next to him, still panting slightly. Peter is euphoric, he can’t remember the last time he had that much fun. It’s entirely possible that he’s never had that much fun. Who’d have thought a night out with Deadpool and being forced to dance in his underwear for the amusement of Thor and a succubus would make for one the best nights he’d ever had? If you’d have asked him yesterday he’d have said it sounded like his idea of hell.

He feels drunk but he never touched a drop, his heart is pounding and he can’t stop grinning under his mask. He turns his head to see Wade staring at him. His stupidly broad chest is rising and falling heavily, Peter catches himself staring and looks away guiltily.

“Fuck! Spidey. That was some crazy shit right there. Never knew you had it in you," Wade says.

Peter laughs. “That makes two of us.” 

“You got moves baby boy.”

Peter rolls his eyes at the nickname but he can’t bring himself to complain. “Pretty good yourself." he says instead, “But I kinda imagined you would be.” 

“You imagine me dancing in my boxers a lot?” Wade says with an audible leer.

Peter is glad of his mask as he feels the blush creep over his skin. He doesn’t answer, just shoves Wade lightly with his shoulder.

“Whadda y’wanna do now?” Wade asks, turning to him eagerly. “The night is young.”

Peter looks around at the darkness, the night is definitely not young. He thinks about the meetings he has to attend in the morning, the stacks of reports on his desk, waiting to be read and signed, the endless emails and conference calls. He should really go to bed, get up bright and early. He opens his mouth to tell Deadpool goodnight but what comes out is, “Patrol?”

“Hells yeah baby!” Deadpool yells and runs off ahead, through the steam that curls from the vents and launches himself up at a fire escape ladder, clambering up into the gloom, boots and weapons clanging against the ironwork.

Peter watches, stunned for a second by the unexpected burst of activity and then rushes after him with a loud shout of joy, dragged from somewhere inside him over which he has no control.

He scrambles up the rough wall, looking out for Wade as he climbs. He can’t hear him now and all the balconies and fire escapes he passes are empty. One or two of the windows are lit, drapes closed against prying eyes and marauding superheroes - and partly reformed mercenaries. 

He reaches the roof and there is still no sign of Wade. Peter stands alone on the edge of the flat concrete roof and listens to the city. He can hear voices, traffic, music, sirens but his spider-sense is quiet for now. This is familiar, he feels at home out here, alive in a way he doesn’t think he ever will in the board-room. 

A jolt of warning shoots through his body a split second before a strong, gloved hand wraps around his ankle and drags him over the edge of the building.

The noise that escapes Peter’s lips is one he will never admit to. He falls, flailing for a moment while Wade, for it is he, hangs onto his ankle and shrieks with excitement. It feels like an age before Peter gets his shit together enough to shoot a web and curtail their plummet towards the rapidly approaching street. He swings to an adjacent rooftop with a cackling mercenary still dangling from his leg.

The moment they land, in an undignified heap, Peter is on his feet and yelling. “What the fuck was that Wilson!?” His heart is pounding and blood is rushing in his ears. Free falling is all well and good when you’re expecting it. Less fun when it takes you by surprise and there’s a 225lb crazy person clinging to you.

“Woo! What a fucking ride!” Deadpool falls onto his back with a rush of breath. He’s panting again and Peter really needs to focus on being pissed and not notice the way his chest muscles move, the way his shoulders shake when he laughs and the way his suit clings to every last, stupidly sculpted inch of him…He shakes his head angrily. This is not the time. He tries to re-focus.

“…flying and we’ve jumped off buildings loads of times before but y’know, less fun if there’s no one there to catch us so I figured…what the hell. Also cos it was fucking hilarious. That noise! Spidey you sounded like a stuck pig - or a flying pig I guess, anyway, whatever kinda pig - it was funny as fuck.”

Peter interrupts Wade’s rambling explanation to yell. “You could’ve gotten us both killed you maniac!”

Deadpool shrugs. “Nope, knew you’d catch us.” He sounds so sure that it stops Peter in his tracks, his mouth opens and closes for a second. For some reason that he knows is probably stupid he finds Wade’s assurance touching. There isn’t a shadow of doubt in his voice.

Deadpool makes a strangled sound, an impression of Peter’s panicked cry and curls up laughing again. Despite himself Peter chuckles, trying to hide his amusement behind his mask. As he looks down at the huge man rolling on the floor at his feet, making squealing noises, he suddenly can’t hold it anymore and he doubles over laughing again until he feels tears well over and his chest hurts. He genuinely can’t remember the last time he laughed like this. He sits down to catch his breath, pulls his mask up to his nose and gasps for air, flopping back to lie on the floor next to Deadpool who also sounds like he’s struggling to breathe. Peter turns to find himself face to face with Wade who has also pulled his mask up and is grinning like a crazy person. The mask still covers his eyes, just his chin, mouth and nose are bare, revealing scarred, twisted skin, cracked lips and angry welts. It looks painful, Peter thinks sadly. He doesn’t look away.

The moment he catches Peter looking at him Wade’s smile drips away and he reaches up to pull the mask back down. It’s like a stab in the heart watching that light go out and Peter finds himself with his hand covering Wade’s before he even know’s he’s moved. Shit. Shit.

“Don’t," he says quietly.

Wade scowls, goes to push his hand away, Peter tightens his grip.

“It’s ok Wade,” he says. 

Wade turns his head away. “No. ’s really not,” he scrambles to his feet.

Peter gets up too, mentally cursing himself. Way to screw up a great evening Parker.

Wade turns away, tossing a small wave over his shoulder. “Catch y’later Webs.”

Peter says nothing but watches him walk to the edge of the roof and peer over. He’s talking to himself in a low voice.

“Yeah well whadda’ you want me to say? You were right? Fucking well done, big surprise. You’re always fucking right aren’t you?”

Peter has no idea who he’s talking to but he has an idea what he’s talking about.

This has been the best night and the most fun he’s had for what feels like years, he’s tired of pretending not to approve of Wade and he’s fed up of trying to ignore or deny the distinctly odd feeling he gets in the pit of his stomach whenever this ridiculous, inappropriate, foul mouthed, hilarious, lunatic is around. He reaches out and shoots a web smack into the middle of Wade’s back, just as he’s about to jump off into the decidedly not-soft looking piles of trash bags in the alley below. He yanks the merc back towards him, Deadpool flails and spins around. 

“What the shit Spidey!?” he yelps.

Peter doesn’t say anything. He’s on auto-pilot and he’s just hoping to hell this is as good an idea as it sounds in his head. He reaches up to Wade’s mask and slowly and gently pushes his fingers under the edge. Wade goes completely still, the eyes in his mask wide and his whole body rigid. Peter raises the mask slowly, expecting at any moment that Wade will shove him away, yell at him, possibly shoot him. But he doesn’t, he seems transfixed. Peter pushes the mask up over Wade’s nose and stops. He runs a thumb slowly over Wade’s lower lip, feeling the rough, uneven texture of his skin, the eyes of the mask seem to follow him.

They stand nose to nose for a moment, not breathing and then Peter grabs him by the back of the neck and pushes their lips together. Wade tastes like beer and smells like cordite and his lips are surprisingly soft but it is like kissing a wall. He doesn’t respond at all. Peter can feel horrified embarrassment crawling over him and he pulls back. 

“I…sorry I…” he stops. They look at each other.

The eyes in Wade’s mask narrow. “What just happened?” he asks. He sounds genuinely curious.

“I…I kissed you. Sorry.”

“You don’t drink.”

Peter blinks, confused by the non-sequitur. “No.”

“Did you hit your head?”

“No…”

“Did that succubus put the whammy on you?”

“No…I mean yes but I’m ok now, I feel fine.”

Wade frowns and leans forward, he pokes Peter in the chest, making him rock back on his heels slightly. Then he touches Peter’s face, then his own lip. It suddenly dawns on Peter that Wade is often not 100% certain what is real.

“It’s me,” he says, and leans in to kiss him again. “I’m here.”

“Am I?” Wade murmurs, but he kisses back this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it - if you did please leave kudos and please do leave me a comment whether you liked it or not! xx


End file.
